


Where sky and water meet

by Syrena_of_the_lake



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrena_of_the_lake/pseuds/Syrena_of_the_lake
Summary: Caspian was canonically bitten by a werewolf. In a Narnia where Caspian became a were-king, the Dawn Treader set sail in search of a cure.
Relationships: Caspian/Lucy Pevensie
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: Lucian Exchange 2019





	Where sky and water meet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WingedFlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedFlight/gifts).



“To the glistening eastern sea, I give you Queen Lucy the Valiant.”   
— Aslan’s coronation speech, _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_

“Where the sky and water meet,  
Where the waves grow sweet,  
Doubt not, Reepicheep,  
To find all you seek,  
There is the utter East.”  
— Reepicheep’s song, _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_

* * *

“Why is there a cage in the hold?” 

Eustace’s question was perfectly reasonable, but it came on the heels of a litany of impertinent and impossible questions (“Where is the British consul? Why don’t you have milk for tea? Why doesn’t that goat man put a shirt on?”), and Lucy rather lost her temper.

“So Caspian doesn’t bite us all during a full moon,” she snapped, although she did have the presence of mind to bite down on the thought that being a werewolf could only improve her cousin.

Of course, the _Dawn Treader_ hardly had room for one were-proof cage, let alone the nosy, sniping were-cub Eustace would surely become if bitten, so even the mental indulgence swiftly yielded to practicalities. “You’re perfectly safe,” she attempted to reassure him.

Eustace never heard her. He was busy scratching at the bars of the cage and muttering something about nitric acid. “I suppose a werewolf king wouldn’t likely skimp on silver, even if he is a barbarian,” Eustace allowed grudgingly. It was the first complimentary thing he had said since they had arrived in Narnia. Clearly he had read _some_ of the right kind of books.

Lucy almost hated to tell him the books were all wrong.

“Actually, that’s just a myth,” she said apologetically.

Eustace looked at her blankly. 

“About werewolves and silver. But the cage was forged by Black Dwarves,” she hastened to add, “and I don’t know much about metallurgy, but their were-steel is an ancient art.”

Eustace’s scowl blackened, but Lucy didn’t need that cue to know Caspian had just entered the hold.

She always knew when he was near. Like the tides knew the pull of the moon. (Had Aslan already known when he crowned her to the eastern sea, an age ago?)

“Would you like to learn the art, Eustace?” Caspian offered yet another olive branch. 

“Like you could teach me,” scoffed Eustace.

Lucy reminded herself that this voyage with Caspian was a literal dream made truth. She would not let Eustace spoil it. She exchanged a look with Caspian.

They never had needed many words, not between themselves.

“I was bitten by a werewolf while trying to stop the White Witch from being released back into the world,” explained Caspian. “Now that I am of age, the curse is worsening. Even Lucy’s magic cordial no longer keeps the wolf at bay. That is why we are sailing to the edge of the world — in search of a cure.”

Eustace’s scowl grew with every word.

All right, maybe Lucy should have primed Caspian a _little_. Eustace wasn’t quite ready for witches, magic cordials and the edge of the world.

But to her surprise, that wasn’t the part her cousin latched onto.

“So where did the myth about silver come from?” asked Eustace. 

Lucy laughed. “We started it ourselves, actually, to prove to Calormen that Caspian _wasn’t_ a werewolf. It was Susan’s idea, of course.”

Caspian grinned. “It worked beautifully,” he confided. “Visiting Tarkhaans tested me by making gifts of silver circlets, silver armor (which is fairly useless, by the by, we smelted it down for cutlery), silver everything for ever so long. I passed every test, simply because silver has no effect on werewolves at all. But it did wonders for the royal treasury.”

* * *

Things were easier after Eustace’s Undragoning. He made a pretty speech, and Lucy did not doubt his sincerity. 

“It doesn’t matter to me if you do have claws or fangs or fur,” Eustace said staunchly. “You aren’t a beast inside.”

“Neither are you, Eustace.” Caspian clasped his arm, and that was that.

Subsequently, Edmund and Reepicheep kept Eustace busy with lessons on swordfighting and what her cousin called Narnian natural history, but which was mainly dragonlore. Lucy was grateful to them all, for it gave her more time alone with Caspian. 

They talked, mostly. Nothing on so small a ship was ever _truly_ private unless one was perched in the crow’s nest, and there was only so much one could do up there before someone down below would notice. (Edmund’s shouted commentary was neither at all accurate nor in good taste, but he was laughing so hard when she caught up with him that he couldn’t hold up his sword. So Lucy contented herself with an appropriately ribald rejoinder instead of the thrashing he _justly_ deserved.)

(Eustace, on the other hand, wouldn’t meet her eyes for days.)

And so she and Caspian contented themselves with long talks and stolen moments, as they always had, and with the dwindling hope for more. Some nebulous someday.

The idyll couldn’t last, of course. The more islands they passed, the faster time seemed to move. A few made Lucy shiver, like the dark island wreathed in clouds on the horizon. Some made her sigh with longing, like the isle with oddly dimpled sandy shores (and were those arhythmic drumbeats she heard over the water?) 

But they could not afford to tarry. Even with a were-steel cage, transformations aboard ship were tricky things. They had weathered the first one all right — Caspian had said it was much better with Lucy there, which made her feel as warm inside as if she were standing by the kitchen hearth in Cair Paravel. But she saw the tightness in his eyes, felt the flutter in his heartbeat (so much faster than it used to be, she was sure of it), felt the new coarseness of his hair, and heard the new roughness in his voice. And she knew their time was running short.

The _Dawn Treader_ skimmed over the water like a swift toward the sunrise.

And the moon grew in the sky.

* * *

They came to but one more island before the edge of the world. The land shimmered as if with starlight, they were low on provisions, and the moon was waxing close to full. Caspian prowled the deck, Lucy at his side like a burr. 

It was Edmund who led the way inland, Edmund who stood at the foot of the Stone Table and felt its sleeping warmth, Edmund who greeted the living star Ramandu.

Caspian stuck to the shadows. His eyes glowed with their own faint light.

Lucy bit her lip, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged Caspian out into the open. “Can you help him?” she asked Ramandu.

The star smiled. Even his wrinkles shone with light. “He may be helped. But not by me.”

Lucy thought she might howl with despair and frustration herself, but Caspian merely ground his teeth. (Surely they were sharper than they used to be?) 

“You must speak with my daughter,” said Ramandu. A young woman appeared at his side, the same way that stars come out at night: a faint glimmer in the darkness, and then a cascading blaze of glory. 

Lucy's heart contracted. Caspian had always been destined to love a woman from another world. Lucy had just always thought it would be _her_.

But then the star's daughter smiled. The wave of jealousy ebbed away as suddenly as it had surged within her, and Lucy's heart eased.

“Welcome, queen and kings of Narnia. I am Lunara, given by Aslan to the Eastern Sky."

A thrill ran through Lucy's veins, a rush of cold night air and something like hope. "I am Lucy, given by Aslan to the Eastern Sea."

"Where sky and water meet," breathed Reepicheep. In the silence, even a mouse's whisper rang like a bell. 

Transfixed, Caspian's eyes flicked between Lucy and Lunara.

Ramandu raised his arms and began to sing:

 _Where sky and water meet  
_ _the sun and moon shall greet_  
 _and night shall give way  
_ _to the sweet light of day_  
here at the utter East.

Caspian squeezed Lucy's hand. She looked down. Surely his knuckles were _less_ hairy than they used to be? Someone squeezed Lucy's other hand. She looked down. Lunara's hand glowed, pale and resplendent. Lucy watched as Lunara and Caspian completed the circle, and she felt no jealousy, only a burgeoning joy. 

And when the sun's rays broke through the lingering darkness, Lucy didn't need to look at Caspian's eyes or his knuckles or his hair to know: the curse had broken with the dawn. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Beyond the horizon(tal)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019386) by [Syrena_of_the_lake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrena_of_the_lake/pseuds/Syrena_of_the_lake)




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